Trial by Family
by rianess
Summary: AU, Severitus Challenge. Every FanFic writer must go through this Rite of Passage! Have a read, and feel free to laugh - just remember to review! What will Severus and Harry do when they realise certain truths and regain certain stolen memories?
1. Prologue

**_Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Harry Potter._**

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**_A/N: It is time for me to take that special HP Fanfic writer's Rite of Passage, a Severitus. Feel free to laugh, but leave a review at the same time!_**

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**_Trial by Family_**

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**_Prologue_**

* * *

"If you look deeply into the palm of your hand, you will see your parents and all generations of your ancestors. All of them are alive in this moment. Each is present in your body. You are the continuation of each of these people."

_**Thich Nhat Hanh**_

* * *

Harry Potter sat on his bed, frowning at the letter in his hands.

It had arrived approximately ten minutes ago, though that fact hardly mattered to Harry. It wasn't even very significant a letter either. Its text held neither words of great import, nor warnings of great danger.

In fact, as letters go, one might describe it to be rather pointless. Harry himself was thinking that very same thing at that moment in time. He did not want to seem ungrateful, but he wondered whether his friends should bother writing to him at all, if all he was going to receive were hasty scribblings such as: "_Can't say much. Having a fun summer. Hope the muggles aren't getting to you. Hermione says hi! She's been hounding me to do my homework, been dodging as best as possible. Got to go, bye for now, Ron._"

Harry could appreciate that Owl Post was not the safest way to communicate if one wanted one's letters to remain private. Surely, he, more than anyone, could appreciate that. But he was not expecting them to write down all the secrets of the Order of the Phoenix in their letters. He seriously doubted they would be able to, despite the restrictions, since he was very sure they didn't know any of the Order's business. Their mother, he thought, was fiercely against them being involved any more than they already were.

With a sigh he crumpled up the letter and threw it in the bin. Then, he paused for a moment, felt bad and bent down to retrieve it again. Smoothing it out as much as possible, he folded it and left it on the window sill.

He was _not_ having a good summer.

Sirius Black, his godfather, had died in the Department of Mysteries some weeks ago, and though he was beginning to come to terms with the part he played in the tragedy, the grief he felt, and the feeling of sheer _loss _was still very raw.

He'd had plenty of time to think about everything that had happened. His relatives, The Dursleys, had taken the warning from the Order members at the train station seriously. But their interpretation of those threats had led them to simply ignore him. They didn't send him on errands, or set him copious amounts of housework to do. They just… acted like he wasn't there. And though it was an improvement from the outright hostility he'd been treated with up until now, it was unsettling.

During the long hours in his room with nothing to do but read his textbooks, do his homework and just lay about generally, he'd had a chance to do some serious rumination on Sirius, his life until this point, his friends, Hogwarts, the Prophecy, and the wizarding world in general.

He'd drawn several conclusions as well.

The first, was that Sirius' death was not his fault. Not entirely. It was a horrible accident, and if blame were to be placed anywhere, it should be with Bellatrix and Voldemort. However, there were others involved also. Dumbledore, for keeping Harry so in the dark that he'd no idea he could have false visions. Sirius himself, for not only doing _exactly_ what Harry had done, by charging into a dangerous situation without thought or preparation, but also acting with complacency and overconfidence in that fatal duel with his cousin.

He, himself, had a hand in it, and though it irked him, he'd had to agree with Snape on a few things too. He did act like a foolish and reckless Gryffindor. He could be alarmingly brash and overconfident at times.

But, having realised these truths, he looked inside himself for the answers as to _why_ he behaved that way. A lot of it, he could put down to being a hormonally imbalanced teenager. This was not something to be taken lightly. It is a known fact the world over that teenagers always think they are right, and that their elders are over the hill and pathetically clueless.

However, Harry also knew that there was more to it than that. He had finally made a break through one night while he was gazing up at the artex ceiling in his tiny room, trying to make shapes out of the patterns.

He had little respect for people in positions of authority, just as Snape said. And the reason was, which, if any, authority figures in Harry's life had _ever_ given him a reason to trust them? To take them seriously? In his opinion, none.

The Dursleys, well, no need to explain there. Mr and Mrs Weasley were sweethearts, but they treated him as if he was eight, and though they did their best to look after him, it was also abundantly clear that they had enough on their plates with their own children to deal with.

Dumbledore told him he was trying to preserve Harry's childhood by not clueing him in on the Prophecy sooner. The man had repeatedly ignored his requests to not have to come back to the Dursleys every year. He failed to notice, or if he did notice he took no action when Harry came to school in September looking horribly thin and malnourished. If he had checked up on him during those awful years before Hogwarts, then he became complicit in the abuse he had suffered at his relatives' hands by doing nothing to stop it.

And that had been another thing which was hard to admit. He was abused. Had been since he'd arrived in this house. It didn't matter which way he looked at it, he had been neglected and abused. So, with all that in mind, which of his authority figures proved that he could trust them? None of them.

He even counted people like Remus Lupin, Minerva McGonagall, and even Hagrid in with the rest of them. He knew he was being a tad harsh in doing so, especially to poor Hagrid, but all he could think was, that if it had been the child of _his _friend, he would not have just taken the Headmaster's word for it. He would want to see that the child was well with his own eyes, and check up regularly to make sure the child stayed well.

In all honesty, he would never had let the hypothetical child be taken out of his hands, given the chance and would probably have raised them himself. He would have protected them and stood up for them when no one else would. Not like how it was with him. For instance, if one of his teachers stepped out of line with him, who did he have to complain to? His Head of House? The Headmaster? Who, if anyone was completely in his corner? Who put _his _needs before anything else, just like a parent should? The answer was simple - no one.

As for Professor Snape, well, he was in a whole class of his own. Harry had snorted to himself when he'd first thought of the man that way. The git would probably have liked the fact that he was being treated as an individual case in Harry's mind.

The man was an enigma, and that was an understatement. To give him his due, he had saved Harry's life several times, and had always been consistent, if nothing else, in his treatment of James Potter's son.

But the intelligent, cunning, and wildly brilliant man that Harry just _knew_ lived below the surface of his Potions Master, just didn't click with the way he treated Harry. Surely, a man as clever as Snape would not waste his time on pointless revenge. Especially on a dead man's son. He would have to know that it was a completely hopeless way of getting back at James, since the man was far beyond feeling any pain of any kind.

There just had to be another reason for it. The pampered prince line didn't work anymore either, for two reasons. The first was that Snape had seen in Harry's mind and knew of his own knowledge that 'The-Boy-Wonder' was not spoiled. Also, he was perfectly cordial, friendly even, with Draco Malfoy, and that kid was the walking _definition_ of a Pampered and Positively Primped Prince.

It was difficult to admit, even to himself, but Harry decided, in his heart of hearts, that if push came to shove, Professor Snape was someone he could trust, with his life. But not with his self-esteem, oh no.

* * *

It was funny that, not a few days after he'd made his mind up about Snape, and the day after his latest, oh-so enlightening letter from Ron, that another letter arrived. It also happened that, this letter arrived on the stroke of midnight, making it the 31st of July, 1996. The day Harry turned sixteen.

The envelope which arrived looked worn and old, and the writing on the front was unfamiliar. Well, it seemed unfamiliar at first, but looking at it again, this time studying it, something stirred within Harry. Something akin to recognition.

Carefully, so as not to damage its contents, Harry opened the envelope.

* * *

_My Dearest Harry,_

_I hope beyond all hope that I shall never have to send you this letter. It is my dearest wish that you should learn what I have to tell you directly from me, in person. But we do not always get what we want, and sadly, some wishes do not come true, no matter how many stars we wish upon._

_I do not believe it is right for you to be kept in the dark, therefore, though it breaks my heart, I am writing this letter to you, my contingency plan, as it were. _

_Lately it seems as though events are spiralling out of control, and I believe that I am not long for this world. I cannot bear the thought of leaving you, but I also cannot deny the feelings deep within my very bones. Before I begin my story, I want you to know that I love you, more than anything else in the world._

_I do not know what your life has been like, but I want you to never doubt how much I love you, and how happy I was when you were born. You announced your arrival with a great hearty cry, and it was the most wonderful sound I have ever heard. You are the greatest gift I have ever received, and I will love you for eternity._

_Now I must tell you some things which have been kept from you. If you are reading this, then I am truly gone so I am afraid there no way for me to soften the blow._

_James Potter is not your biological father._

_When I was at school, I made friends with a very lonely and lost little boy. He was rather hostile and rude to me at first, but since I could see through his anger to the pain which lay within him, I persisted and would not leave him alone. Eventually, he relented and we began a real friendship._

_Behind his façade lay a wonderfully intelligent and caring individual, and as we grew older, I started to fall in love with him. Luckily for me, he returned my feelings, and when we were seventeen, we became lovers._

_I realise it must be difficult to hear of your mother and intimacy, but I feel as though I must give you all the facts. _

_He, my lover, was under pressure from his mother and friends to join the Dark Lord who has been rising in power lately, Voldemort. He had no desire to sign his life away to a madman, but he was finding it difficult to think of a way to avoid it. Unfortunately, he was trapped and tricked into taking this man's mark of service. When he was able to escape from his new master, he immediately went to a man you must know of, Albus Dumbledore, looking for help._

_Sadly, Dumbledore was not willing offer his assistance unless my lover agreed to do something for him in return, which was, to spy on his master. As you can imagine, I was incensed at this suggestion and what I felt was the old man's cavalier attitude towards my lover's life. I'm afraid I did something very foolish. I confronted Dumbledore in his office and demanded to know why he was asking such a high price from one who was coming to him for sanctuary._

_Many things were said, not many of them pleasant. Our relationship was revealed, including the fact that we were engaged to be married and I was expecting you. The Headmaster did not take kindly to my reprimand nor the knowledge that I was involved with his spy. He demanded that we end our engagement, and that you were aborted. He said that we posed too much of a risk._

_Of course we both refused and left the office as quickly as possible. We made plans to flee from Europe and settle elsewhere. We were never able to enact those plans._

_It is only recently that I have remembered all that has occurred. From the situation I am able to deduce that my lover and I have been subjected to memory charms, since I find myself and you, my son, installed in James Potter's home, purportedly as his wife and child. I know that this is not true. I am not his wife, and you are not his son._

_It is only by pure chance that I have broken the charm placed on me. I believe it is because of my work as an Unspeakable, where I have been researching and testing new potions, that I am able to recall the true facts of the situation. It breaks my heart that I have been taken away from the man I love and that you have not been able to know your real father._

_You have not even emerged from this unscathed, since you currently resemble James Potter, almost as if you were his clone. You still have my eyes, however, for which I am very grateful._

_You real father has not been so lucky, I am afraid, since the last time I saw him he would hardly even speak to me. He acted as if I were his worst enemy, and every looked he gave you was loaded with disgust and loathing._

_I have made plans to remedy this situation, but if they fail, I am sure this final contingency of mine will not. _

_I have arranged for this letter to be sent to you, through the Unspeakables, the minute you turn sixteen. By then you will be old enough to take charge of your life and gain your freedom, if only in the muggle world. It will be enough, however, since the magical world must honour the laws of both lands. I have also arranged for Unspeakables to visit your real father and break the memory charms on him, on the very same night._

_I am unsure what the fallout of these actions will be, but I feel for any progress to be made, the truth must be known. You deserve to know who you really are, and where you come from. And your father deserves to know he has a son, and a fiancé who never stopped loving him._

_Forgive me for leaving you, if I have done so. Believe that I will always be with you in your heart, and watching over you from wherever I am._

_All that remains for me to tell you is this: your father is a wonderful man, named Severus Tobias Snape. _

_Your ever loving mother,_

_Lily Evans._

* * *

The man in question, though he didn't know it at the time, was currently seated in a comfortable armchair near a warm fire in his personal library. The house he had inherited from his parents wasn't much to look at on the outside, but inside Severus Snape had stretched the power of magic to its limits in making the house comfortable, even luxurious. It was definitely a far cry from what it had been when he was growing up.

The wards he had constructed which kept the house safe did much to impede access by muggles and other undesirables, but they were sadly no match for the curse breakers working as Unspeakables with the Department of Mysteries.

The look of rage on the Potions Master's face when he was cornered and stunned reminded more than one person of their time at Hogwarts. But it did not stop them from carrying out the final wishes of one of their own. Lily Evans had left instructions on what was to be done if she died without regaining her freedom, and no one was willing to let her down.

The continued in their task, knowing that the man they had summarily abducted would thank them in the end. After all, did he not have his and Evans' son to look after?

* * *

When Severus finally awoke, he was shocked to find himself not at home. The room he was in was fairly bare, and seemed almost clinical in appearance. Not _at all_ happy about being forcibly taken away from his house, he sat up and moved as if to rise from the bed he'd found himself in.

A wave of dizziness stopped him in his tracks and he had to reach out a hand to the wall to steady himself. A sound of water rushing flooded his ears and he almost blacked out. All at once, his memories overtook him.

* * *

"_Leave me alone, you – you mudblood!_"

"_No! You won't get rid of me that easily, Severus Snape. I can tell you're__ hurt, just let me help you!_"

"_Argh! Alright, fine! But you breathe one word of this Evans, and I swear..._"

* * *

"_I had no idea you felt this way..._"

"_Well, I didn't either, until summer came and I couldn't see you. Look, I didn't tell you before now because I thought you would avoid me. Please don't. I know you don't like me that way but if we could just..._"

"_Now where did you get that idea Evans... Lily? I expect if it was anyone else I would be running in the opposite direction. But it's not, it's you. It's always been you._"

"_Y-You mean?_"

"_Yes, that's exactly what I mean._"

* * *

"_Of course I'll marry you!"_

"_Please don't cry! I know it's because you're happy, but you'll set me off and then where will we be?_"

"_Exactly where we are now, where we should be. Together._"

"_Yes, together._"

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"_Severus, you're going to be a Daddy._"


	2. Chapter One

**_Disclaimer: I do not own anything Harry Potter related._**

**_A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, please keep them coming. I have also made a decision recently about updates. I can either update infrequently with long chapters, or post shorter chapters once or twice a week. Please do tell me which you prefer. ;)_**

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**_Chapter One_**

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"_When we come into contact with the other person, our thoughts and actions should express our mind of compassion, even if that person says and does things that are not easy to accept. We practice in this way until we see clearly that our love is not contingent upon the other person fbeing lovable."_

**_Thich Nhat Hanh_**

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Severus found himself in the unlikely situation of being absolutely flabbergasted. Truly, he had not had sufficient time to reconcile his returned memories with the fallacies they'd been hidden behind over the last several years.

Moments of tenderness with his Lily were now overlain with guilt and shame for the way he had treated her when he was 'under the influence', so to speak. He knew she wouldn't blame him, he'd not been able to help it of course, but that didn't stop him from feeling like the utter bastard others accused him of being on a regular basis.

Added to that, was the thought of how he had belittled and frankly terrorised his son, his _Harry_ during the last five years at school. He'd had to keep up the Death Eater facade, to be sure, but if he and his wife to be had been allowed to live their lives according to their _own _choices, none of that would have been necessary, or even have happened. Harry would have been with them from the start, as nature intended. And his name wouldn't be Harry.

That _bastard_, James Potter hadn't seen fit to merely steal someone's wife and child, no; he'd had to name that child after his despicable father, Harold. Such an ugly name for such a wonderful child. He and Lily had wanted to call him... he paused for a moment in his rumination as the door to his room opened.

"Professor Snape. I take it you've worked out why we carted you down here?" The person in the doorway asked, with a hint of trepidation.

Severus smirked inwardly to see the nervousness on his would-be abductor's face. He'd stood over this particular young man in the classroom several times. The boy was only three years his junior, but that hadn't stopped him from pulling his 'greasy git' persona on him as his Potions Master, during his last year at Hogwarts and Severus' own first year of teaching.

"Indeed, Mr Robards. I was not aware, however, that you had found employment here, as well as in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I knew I was right to push you as hard as I did in for your Potions NEWT." Severus replied with a genuine smile, the likes of which had not been seen for many a long year.

"Evans – Lily, I mean, was the one to recruit me. She was to be my mentor, before... Well. Enough said. Forgive us for taking you from your home, Professor. But she charged us with this task many years ago, and you know we won't let one of our own down – no matter what."

"I know, Gawain. I know." Certain someones may have thought they'd won when Lily died, but she still didn't let them get the better of her. She protected her family just like the fierce lioness she was. All that was left for him now, was to find his son and make sure no one ever separated them again. When his family was whole, then, and only then, could he grieve for her. Finally, properly.

"I wonder, Gawain, if you would be interested in helping with a little... muggle problem?"

* * *

Harry felt like had spent every second, of every minute, of every day thinking about his mother's letter. He must have read it a thousand times. Every time trying to find something new, something to help him make sense of what she had told him.

At first he refused to believe it. It had to be a trick, or a prank. An extremely distasteful and definitely unfunny one, but surely, just a hoax. But when his shock had faded and he read it again, it started to sink in. And truth be told, it wasn't so hard to believe that Dumbledore could do something so conniving. With the way the man had been treating him for the last, well, _forever_, he wouldn't put much past him.

The man was truly prepared to do anything for what he perceived as 'the greater good'. What seemed to be blind siding him though, was that the Gospel According to Dumbledore likely wouldn't be everyone's cup of tea, and frankly, he didn't care. Or didn't seem to. People had to live their lives the way _he _thought was best, and anyone who didn't agree had better watch out.

The chink in the old man's armour, however, was that _he_ needed _Harry_, not the other way round. If that prophecy he'd fed Harry barely an hour after Sirius died was to be believed, that was. And if that all came out to be another concoction of his sugar-addled brain, well, then there wouldn't be a hole deep or dark enough for him to hide in. Harry would find him and tear him apart.

The other side of it, was that given what he knew of James Potter from the memories of Snape made it easy to believe the man would go along with such a rotten plan. In his defence, though, he may very well have allowed himself to be led by the Headmaster. Sirius had always said that James had been hopelessly enamoured of Lily, and it was important to remember that the bunch of them hadn't been much older than he was right now.

Most kids his age did as they were told, much as they might like to believe they were rebellious and defiant. He could see how someone who was raised in a loving, privileged home, like James was, would not have a problem believing in someone who played the beneficent grandfather the way Dumbledore did.

Thoughts like this circled in his head, round and round again, as he tried to explain and justify the actions of those he'd believed to be good, honest people up until now.

And then, added to that mix, was Snape. His father. Snape. To say the mind boggled was a gross understatement, worthy of a lifetime sentence in Azkaban.

It seemed to defy the odds that something like this could happen to him, but then, that seemed to be the norm for his life so far, defying the odds, achieving the heretofore believed _impossible_. He had no idea how he really felt about this revelation, to be frank. He was overjoyed at the idea of having a real, live parent, but for it to be a man who had hated him from the very day they met... That was not something he'd ever imagined could happen. How were they ever supposed to get past their history? Did the man even know yet, for Christ's sake? The letter mentioned the Unspeakables would be dealing with Snape, but would he then come and see Harry? Would he just ignore it? Would he come and take his son away from this awful place?

During the long and lonely years in his cupboard, he'd pictured his family, and in it was a strong, smiling father ready to carry him away from the Dursleys and keep him safe. He'd even rescued bits of broken crayons from the rubbish bins when Dudley discarded them, and used scraps of paper to draw pictures of him and his family. Other people had photo albums full of them, he knew that for a fact since one of the sideboards in the Dursleys' dining room was chock full of such albums, the pictures telling a story of the son of the house as he grew from a pudgy baby, into the land whale he resembled now.

Someone like Snape though, he'd never have been who Harry had drawn as his father, his protector... and the one person who would love him unconditionally. True, Snape had saved his life several times, but that wasn't out of any kind of affection as far as Harry was aware.

Harry sighed as he tried again and in vain to make sense of his feelings.

One thing was for sure, though, that from the moment he'd read that letter, nothing would ever be the same.

* * *

Later that very evening, Harry was woken from a sleepy daze by something which despite its triviality, suddenly sounded ominous: _the doorbell was ringing._


	3. Chapter Two

_**Disclaimer: I do not own anything Harry Potter related.**_

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_**A/N: My thanks to everyone who has taken the trouble to read and review. When you spot grammatical/spelling errors, please point them out so I can correct them. I would really appreciate it. I am English though, so to my mind, 'realise' instead of 'realize' is not an error.**_

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_**Chapter Two**_

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"_Life can be found only in the present moment. The past is gone, the future is not yet here, and if we do not go back to ourselves in the present moment, we cannot be in touch with life."_

_**Thich Nhat Hanh**_

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_My Dearest Severus,_

_It seems hopelessly trite to begin this letter with something like, 'If you are reading this, then I am dead', but to my eternal regret, such is most probably true. I acted foolishly and put our family in danger, and for that I must beg for your forgiveness. Blame it on the Gryffindor in me, if you wish._

_Know that I do not blame you for what has come to pass between us lately. It hurt for you to deny our love, but neither of us is truly at fault. It is another who has put us where we are, treating us as puppets in his pathetic game of control and power. You know well of whom I speak._

_All that remains for me to tell you is how much I love you. I would have been deliriously happy to live out my days with you, as your wife, and am waiting eagerly for when you can finally join me. _

_Do you remember these words? "And all your deeds and words, Each truth, each lie, Die in unjudging love." Dylan Thomas. We used to laugh that he was the one who brought us together. _

_You know that we created a child with our love, a son. Unless I am very much mistaken, that son is living a lie, and a life which should never have been forced on him. I implore you to go to him, tell him who he is, make him understand that this not what we wanted for him. Remind him that he has choices and help him choose for himself who he wants to be._

_I have sent him a letter as well, telling him exactly what has happened and who you really are. I felt it would be best for him to be prepared, mainly so that he would believe your story, and so that he would not judge you harshly._

_Go to our little boy, our baby Dylan, and be the father you were born to be. He won't turn you away, I am sure of it. And tell him I love him so much._

_Yours forever,_

_Lily_

* * *

Severus found he could not stop the flow of tears as he read the words from the one who was so dear to him. The one who should have been his wife. He couldn't dwell on the memory of their last meeting. Otherwise he felt he would tear himself shreds. Grief had found its way into his heart, along with guilt, and he suspected that they would be his companions for a long while yet. Well and so. He was not able to absolve himself of guilt, nor persuade himself that his past sins were not of his own making. Frankly, he had no wish to. After all, this was all he had left of Lily, and he refused to let it go.

The fact that their little boy might welcome the building of a family with him never crossed his mind. Well, that was not entirely true. Hope had skittered into his field of vision for but a moment, before being dismissed out of hand. His son would not forgive him for the wrongs he'd done to him. Severus deserved to be punished, wanted to be punished.

He would do his duty, however, and retrieve the child from his current guardians. It was Lily's last wish, and he would not let her down. Not again.

* * *

As he stood on the doorstep of a typical suburban muggle home, Gawain Robards reassured himself that he was doing the right thing. For sure, finding out that Harry Potter was actually Evans and Snape's kid was a shock, but Gawain was a strong believer in family. Potter needed to be with his father, he was convinced of that. For one thing, the change which had come over Snape since his memories were returned was nothing short of a miracle.

True, the man was no less sarcastic, or even less irritating. He had kept those personality quirks in spades. But the raging bitterness which always seemed to be laced within every word he uttered, seemed to have... _softened_, somehow. Well, Robards had a fairly good idea how it had happened. Getting years worth of memories back had to be a big help, and finding out that such a wonderful woman had wanted to marry you also had to be a pretty good ego boost, if nothing else.

Then finding out you had a child, a son. And not just any son, but _Harry Potter_, all round saviour and good guy. Well, it wasn't every day something like that happened, and the shock had probably brought out this other side of Snape.

* * *

While his companion was mulling over the last several, rather eventful hours, Severus was looking at the front door curiously, wondering what they would find on the other side. He was well aware from their failed Occlumency lessons during the last year that Lily's sister was less than fond of her nephew, but he had only caught glimpses.

He could hope that they were only extreme and isolated events, but his other knowledge of the boy's circumstances refused to let him believe it. There was no denying that the boy looked emaciated, sick even, at the start of every Autumn term. Nor could he forget the meetings between Potter and the Headmaster at the end of every year. The child would practically beg not be sent back here, to these people. If they got on with each other as well as Albus claimed, why would Potter not wish to spend Christmas with them? Surely, if he loved them and they him, they would want to be together for such an occasion?

No, the sad story of his son's life in this house was piecing itself together, bit by bit, and it told of long, lonely, isolated years, where a child who should have lived with and been loved by his parents was abused and neglected.

Trying not to dwell on the damage one interfering old man had done to so many lives, Severus exchanged a glance with his companion and then reached up, and rung the doorbell.

* * *

It was some time before anyone actually came to answer the door, no doubt due to the lateness of the hour, or in fact the earliness, depending on how you looked at it.

When the door did finally open, the two wizards felt like they wanted to take a step back, to get away from the ruddy faced rhinoceros of a man who was glaring at them from the doorway.

"What bloody time do you call this? What are you doing here?" He said in a harsh whisper, no doubt wanting to make sure the neighbours didn't hear anything.

"Forgive us for disturbing you, Mr Dursley," Severus began, correctly identifying this man as Lily's brother in law. "However, we have come to retrieve Mr Potter from your home. It is an emergency, hence why we have come at such an uncivilised hour." He finished smoothly, noting that the large man's stance seemed to relax slightly and wondering why that was.

"Early this year, isn't it? Well, who cares. Glad someone has come to take control of that freak. Mind you keep him disciplined, he's a bad lot, just like his parents." Fortunately, he didn't notice the looks of outrage on the two wizards' faces as he had his back to them. He had already turned and retreated back into the house. Nor did he hear the menacing, low growl which the Potions Master emitted, at the mention of he and Lily being 'a bad lot'. Gawain placed a warning hand on Severus' arm, and shook his head.

The two of them followed Dursley into the house and up the stairs. When they reached what was evidently Harry's room, Severus repressed another growl at the sight of all the locks on the door. Dursley had begun unlocking them while the wizards were catching up to him, and wasn't even half-way done yet.

"This is his room? I must ask you Mr Dursley, if it is really necessary to keep your nephew locked in? You have a duty and a level of care to provide which I think would be very difficult to achieve when your charge is locked in his bedroom." Gawain, surprisingly, was the one who voiced this protest, as his companion seemed unable to form a coherent sentence due to the rage which had swept through him. Having such blatant evidence in front of him which told of the abuse his child had suffered at the hands of this ox, was enough to make him wish he could try a few of the nastier curses he had learned at the hem of Voldemort's robes.

Vernon Dursley flinched at the quiet reprimand, having recognised this man's question for what it really was. Any thoughts of dealing with these people quickly and then going back to bed flew out the window when he was being told off by some freak.

"Now you wait just a minute there, you, you – _freak_! I don't have to put up with this sort of treatment from _your_ kind! I said we should have drowned the runt on the first night we got him. But Petunia wouldn't have it!" He moved towards them as if to shove Gawain, but the Auror-come-Unspeakable was too fast for him, and had the tip of his wand pressed to the man's jugular before he could blink.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Dursley. I am an Unspeakable. That's MI5, to you _muggle_. Don't push me, or they'll never find your body. Understand?" He declared in a low voice, which made Snape want to smile and Harry's uncle to wet himself. He nodded vigorously, and Robards directed him to finish unlocking the door. When that was done, he sent the man off back to his bedroom.

"And I better not hear a peep out of you, Dursley, or there will be consequences." He told the man as he shut the door of the room he shared with his wife. When he rejoined Severus, he placed a hand on the other man's shoulder in silent support, and waited while he opened Potter's door.

* * *

Of course, Harry had heard most of the conversation between his uncle and the two visitors, one of who he had identified as Snape. The other seemed to be one of the Unspeakables his mother told him would be coming.

He was rather impressed with the way the man had stood up to his uncle, and had smothered his laugh at the whale's pathetic whimpering in his pillow.

When the doorbell had rung earlier, Harry had made a decision on how he was going to handle this new development in his life. And that was, that he would give Snape a chance. Never once had he had his mother to advise him, and now he did and she _had_, he was going to do what she said. No one else had ever given him the choice about how he wanted his life to run, and he was fairly pleased to have a choice about something so significant.

So, with that decided, he had sat down on his bed, and waited for the locks to be undone and the door opened. When it did finally open, he could not suppress a spark of wild anticipation which rose in his breath. He was about to meet his father – his _real _father!

When the two men stepped into the room, Harry's eyes went immediately to Snape's. Black met green and neither one could look away. While Gawain looked around the room, frowning in disapproval, Harry and Severus stared at each other.

Both felt like they had an entire conversation only with their eyes. Severus' held remorse, and hope in equal measures. There was grief and guilt thrown in there too, and Harry wondered at that until he remembered that the man was supposed to have had his memories returned to him. Memories of a love and life now irrevocably lost.

Harry's eyes held hope and curiosity, and a guarded caution which Severus could not blame him for. He had treated his child horribly over the last five years, and he had much to make up for. He could only pray that he would be given the chance to do so.

After a long moment of silence, in which no one even moved, Severus shifted slightly where he stood and coughed a trifle awkwardly.

"Y – Your mother said she had sent you a letter." He said, and it was almost a question. Harry nodded and Severus sighed with relief. "So, you know then?" He asked, with an unreadable look.

"I do." Harry replied simply, his own expression equally unfathomable.

There was another long pause. Then Severus moved closer to the boy and held out a hand, smiling gently. It was a completely foreign expression on the harsh planes of his face, which Harry was shocked to see, but it pleased him as well. He looked down at Snape's hand and then back up to his face. His father was still smiling, albeit a crooked half smile, and Harry was almost surprised when he asked:

"Well then, would you like to come home?


	4. Chapter Three

_**Disclaimer: I do not own anything Harry Potter related.**_

_**A/N: Thank you for the reviews and feedback, they are much appreciated.**_

* * *

_**Chapter Three**_

* * *

"_Reconciliation is to understand both sides; to go to one side and describe the suffering being endured by the other side, and then go to the other side and describe the suffering being endured by the first side."_

_**Thich Nhat Hanh**_

* * *

The outside of Spinners End wasn't much to look at, that was for sure. But to Harry, it seemed like the most wonderful place in the world. To him, it represented the culmination of years of childhood dreams and yearning: _home_. This was his _home_, where he would live with his father. They would be a family. Albeit a bizarre and dysfunctional one, no doubt.

Perhaps he was being foolish to allow this one thought to overwhelm him and thus override his previous feelings about Professor Snape and the terrible relationship they had had so far. But, in all honesty, at that moment, Harry couldn't bring himself to care.

When they reached the entrance, Snape brought out a rather normal looking set of keys and opened the front door, and hurriedly ushered him inside.

Harry spotted the difference between the outer shell this house showed to the world, and the truth of its inner core almost immediately. The two could not have been more different. Spinners End disguised itself superbly, and surely no one who walked past it had any idea that the inside could be this beautiful and welcoming. Much like the man himself. Perhaps Snape and his house weren't that much different. After all, wasn't it said that people's homes reflected the character of their owner's? He sure hoped so.

* * *

For his part, Severus was anxious to see what his son would think of his new abode. He had made haste to usher the child inside, hoping that the grimness of the town and indeed, the street he lived on would not make his son change his mind.

That thought brought up something which he was still finding it hard to believe. When he had asked Harry if he wanted to come home with him, he'd said yes. There was no raging, no decrying of the knowledge his mother had passed on to him, and no declaration that he would rather stay with those horrible muggles than live with his most-hated Potions Professor.

But, as he'd kept having to remind himself for the last hour or so, Harry hadn't said no. Instead he'd smiled, taken Severus' outstretched hand, and said, "Yes, father. Finally, it's time to go home."

He'd been puzzling over that response for some time, and had become noticeably distracted. Well, he was sure Harry would have noticed if he wasn't so far away himself. This would obviously be a time of adjustment and change for both of them, and these first steps were going to be immensely important. It didn't help that they only had August, just one month, before both of them were due to go back to Hogwarts.

Severus wasn't at all sure how he felt about subjecting the two of them to Dumbledore's presence and control. Bad enough that he had done what he did, but now they knew about it, could they even confront him? Dare they? Look what happened when Lily had tried to have it out with the old man – he'd taken over her entire life and destroyed what chances the three of them had to become a family. And the brothers and sisters they'd wanted for their little boy never came to be either.

It made him furious to think of, so many lives lost and ruined because one old goat thought he knew better than everyone else. Well, no more.

Severus swore to himself, then and there, _no more_!

* * *

"I guess things really _are_ rarely what they seem, eh?" Harry said tentatively, trying to stir the Professor from whatever horrible thoughts he was contemplating.

When they'd first stepped into the house the man had looked anxious, probably because he as nervous about how Harry would view their home. But now, he looked plain angry, and Harry could only hope it wasn't directed at him.

Luckily, Severus shook himself and remembered where he was and who he was with. "Sorry, I was just thinking of Dumbledore..." He paused and then coughed. "Ah, leave your trunk by the stairs, it can be taken up later. Unless you would like to choose a room now? It is rather early in the morning and I would not begrudge you further sleep if you need it."

Harry thought about it.

There were a lot of questions which needed to be asked and answered, that was for sure. And he was feeling fairly overwhelmed right now. Did he want sleep? Would he even be able to sleep, with all the adrenaline in his system?

A rather large yawn which he couldn't get his hand up in time to cover seemed to solve the dilemma for him. A warm chuckle made him smile, and he met his father's eyes and shrugged sheepishly.

"Let me show you the bedrooms so you can pick one, and then we can talk after we've both rested. There are... things to say. But we do not need to rush anything."

* * *

When he woke later that same day, Harry felt more rested than he had done for a long time. His regular nightmares had been absent, and luckily, he'd not had any visions. The grief he'd been feeling for Sirius was muted, probably because he'd been so distracted by his mother's letter, and the events it had triggered.

The room he was in was fairly bare at the present moment in time, but Snape had assured him they could fix that. It was his to keep forever more, this would always be his room, and this would always be his home. It was a comforting thought.

Stretching, he got up and went off in search of the bathroom.

When his morning's ablutions had been taken care of, he shuffled downstairs, looking for Snape. Breakfast seemed like the ideal time for them to begin the talk they needed to have. It took him a few moments to find the kitchen, and when he did, he saw that his father was already there. The smell of coffee and the food cooking on the hob permeated the room, making his tummy rumble.

Hearing this, Snape looked up from his paper with a warm, yet slightly tentative smile. Harry was not used to seeing uncertainty on the face of his Potions teacher, however the sight of it made him feel less anxious. From the signs, Snape was as nervous about this as he was. The man got up from his chair, putting his paper aside for a moment.

"Good morning. I hope you slept well. There's tea or coffee if you want it. Or some orange juice. Food should be ready soon, and..." Snape paused as he realised he was rambling. He was incredibly worried that things would go wrong between him and his son. He had no idea how to be a parent. Especially to a boy who was nearly a man himself.

There was so much he had missed out on, so much denied him and Lily. And their baby boy himself. But, he reminded himself, now was not the time to focus on the past, on what they'd lost. Such would only serve to make both of them bitter, and he'd wasted far too many years on that already.

"Forgive me, it is not my intention to ramble on like a buffoon. But I find myself strangely at a loss of what to say to you." He sat down and faced Harry, giving him as open a look as he dared. "I do not mean to imply that I in any way resent your being here, and similarly, neither do I regret retrieving you from those abysmal excuses for human beings." He paused.

Harry took that moment to get a word in. "I don't imagine this will be easy for either of us. So much has changed in the space of one night. I feel like I don't know who I am anymore. And I hardly recognise you either. But maybe that's a good thing. Maybe it means that it's up to _us_ how things go from now on, and who we want to be, as people, and to each other." He offered Snape what he hoped was a reassuring smile, and was himself reassured to see that same lopsided smile from the night before.

"We've both been forced into roles not of our choosing. And believe me, despite appearances, I knew some of what was going on with you and Dumbledore, and the things he asked you to do. Behind the Golden Boy image, I do have a brain." Harry said, but chuckled lightly to take the sting out of the comment.

"We've a chance now, if we want to take it, to start over. If we can agree that the past it the past..."

"It will not be so simple, I fear. We have some very bad history between us... just our Potions lessons, for instance, and then, Occlumency..." The guilt in Snape's tone was obvious to Harry and he hated the sound of it. Once upon a time, he would have been pleased. Felt, vindicated in a way, that the man realised the way he had treated him was wrong. Now though, it simply felt like a hindrance. 

An unacceptable obstacle in the way of something he wanted to achieve. Something he wanted to obtain. Namely, a family. A family with this man, the father he had never known.

"Yes, we've a history. What of it? I would love to sit here and play the victim, bring up things and have a go at you and all that, but what would be the point? It would only upset both of us, and though I could claim that you started it, it's not really true, is it? And don't forget, I'm not completely blameless either. Which reminds me, about your Pensieve..."

Snape cut him off before he could even begin his apology. "I – you do not need to apologise for that. We all kept you so in the dark, this last year, what would anyone have expected you to do, in such a situation? I may as well have left a flashing sign above saying, '_look in here'_. If you had known that there were secrets of my school days in there, and nothing else, I am sure you would not have looked. I have learned at least that much about your sense of honour." He reached out hesitantly and then seeming to gather some courage from a hidden reserve, he patted Harry's hand in a conciliatory manner.

"Thanks." Harry said, pleased that the man had realised such about him, and had also acknowledged it. For Harry, his honour and sense of fair play was vitally important, and was not something he felt he could easily compromise.

"You were saying, about it not being true that I started it, as it were. Why do you think that? I remember your first Potions lesson, and how I behaved, I did not even give you a chance." It was clear that this fact was distressing the man, and Harry hastened to correct him.

"True, but who was I to you then? The son of your childhood tormentor. As you said before, what could anyone expect? And why was I such? Because Dumbledore arranged it that way. So really, I think it's fair to say that _he _started it. Not you, and not me. Well, I don't know about you, but I'm through letting him decide my life. What do you say?"

Severus thought for a second, and really he didn't even need a whole second to make his choice. No other choice in his life had ever felt so easy to make, and neither had he ever felt so sure that it was the _right _choice. Morally, as well as personally.

A choice between his little boy, who was not so little anymore, and the insufferable, conniving, manipulating old fart who had got them into this painful situation in the first place. Really, there was no competition, and for Severus, no hesitation.

"I say, let's drink to that. Though if you think I'm going to let you drink an alcoholic beverage at this hour, you've got another thing coming you man!"

At that moment, Severus felt like the sound of his son's laughter was enough to make him happy for the rest of his life.


End file.
